


(No) Escape From Reality

by Ravenclaw_Peredhel



Series: Make One Wrong Move [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Celegorm would have been a fucking amazing uncle, Character Death, Child Death, Depressed Sons of Fëanor, Depression, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentioned Maedhros, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Slight Lúthien bashing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, and a bit brash, everyone is screwed up, in that she is young and inexperienced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel
Summary: Celegorm's motivations for kidnapping Lúthien were a little more...complicated than everyone thinks.After all, if they didn't know about his niece, how could they know that Lúthien and she looked so terribly similar.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Lúthien Tinúviel, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Original Female Character(s), Maedhros | Maitimo/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Make One Wrong Move [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050524
Kudos: 12





	(No) Escape From Reality

Celegorm was hunting again. Killing things and tearing them down was not a healthy way to deal with grief, but it was easy and it hurt others, made them too feel the pain he felt. Plus it kept the pantries full. 

Finrod too was gone, and Celegorm had discovered, quite to his surprise, that his gentle, lively, golden cousin had been a large part of staving of the greater portion of his grief. To Finrod alone had he confided after the tragedy, above even Curufin. Finrod had heard Celegorm's outpouring of grief and (admittedly misplaced) guilt, and had not offered empty platitudes but had comforted his cousin and busied him, giving him something to do, to take his mind off of what had happened. Orodreth did not trust either brother enough to employ them the same way Finrod had. 

Instead, Celegorm could only hunt and try to avoid the increasingly violent arguments of Curufin and Celebrimbor. He could not block the images burned into his brain, no matter if he hunted himself to exhaustion. They replayes themselves again and again and again, and he was half mad with it. 

**********

_Maedhros and Aerin returning from a hunt, Aerin bleeding from an arrow wound in her shoulder, barely conscious. The eerily silent tent as Maedhros and his brothers waited, agony etched on Maedhros face, clearly taking the guilt of the terrible thing that had happened to his wife onto himself. Maedhros going into the tent, and a muffled wail cut off abruptly._

_When the eldest brother emerged a while later, he held a tiny frail body in his arms. Celegorm could only process snippets of the babe - li_ _ttle tufts of black hair;_ _wide grey eyes; perfect, porcelain feature, with the indisputable stamp of the Teleri; one impossibly tiny hand emerging from the now far too large embroidered dress_ _that had been Celegorm's gift for the long awaited child. His real gift, not the joke of the hunting knives. He moved forwards as if in a daze, gently touching the still, pale face of the miniscule elleth with the tip of his finger. Already he had lost his heart to the little elfling, and it was too late by far._

_A delicate carved stone, words etched deep into it. If he looked closely enough, Celegorm did not doubt he would see tears in the grooves._

_Almáriel Vanëfinwë Maedhrosiel_

_Beloved daughter and niece._

_One day we will meet again_

**********

A headstone in the painstakingly tended sparse gardens of Himring was the only mark his little niece had left on the world. It swam before his eyes as he leaned against the tree, physically unable to continue the hunt. Almáriel. Daughter of a Telerin princess and a Noldor prince. In her veins had run the blood of Curufinwë Fëanáro himself. She would have burned as brightly as her forbears, and left as undeniable a mark as they. But a freak orc attack had brought her into the world far too soon, and now she would never see it. 

Celegorm had had so many plans for his niece. He would have been her favourite uncle, would have made her hundreds of beautiful dresses, would have taught her how to climb trees and swim and hunt. Not that he had any illusions that his brothers would not have fought just as fiercely to be the favourite uncle, but he was Celebrimbor's favourite for a reason. 

Huan's barking sounded through his miserable haze of a reverie, and he lifted his head to see what the fuss was about. From the muffled curse on Huan next to him, it appeared that Curufin had also been falling asleep. 

The miserable dog had found a shadow. Slight and delicate, cloaked as in mist, it stood before him unwavering and unspeaking. A strange lead weight of forboding appeared in the pit of Celegorm's stomach. Whoever this shade was, whether they meant good or ill, they spelled great change. He wasn't even sure if he introduced himself correctly, though the shade appeared pleased by the knowledge of his name and title, shifting slightly. The cloak was suddenly gone, and in its place was an elleth, with long black hair and grey eyes, her features as delicate and pale as the babe the House of Fëanor mourned. She was lovely to be truthful, but it was not her beauty that stunned him. Somehow, by some odd trick, she looked almost exactly how Almáriel would have eventually had she lived and grown. 

His eyes were bound to this strange elleth who had such a resemblance to the child that had not even lived. Perhaps he could have done nothing to aid Almáriel. But he could certainly keep this girl safe. He could honour his niece's memory. 

In years to come, he would curse the day he tried to protect the princess who had such a likeness to the elfling he had never known.

**Author's Note:**

> Almáriel means Blessed Child. I figure Aerin chose this name because of how desperately she wished for the baby to be happy and to grow. And because a child, a living breathing elfling born to the cursed house of Fëanor would have been a marvellous blessing indeed.  
> I have decided to do some one-shots in this universe as well, so comment if you have a request.
> 
> Also, this is very weird and it makes no sense. Was just some random idea floating around in my head.


End file.
